


Tomarry Drabble Collection

by nedflanders



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Drabbles, Fairy Tale Elements, Light Angst, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, other tags will follow later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 06:59:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18733969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nedflanders/pseuds/nedflanders
Summary: this is a drabble collection dedicated to Tom and Harry ~





	Tomarry Drabble Collection

**Author's Note:**

> thank you @Caty_314 for the beta <3

The storm had not ceased. The wind was still blowing mercilessly through the night, fuelled by anger suppressed throughout the centuries. The whips of air a constant reminder that Harry had to move fast. His feet ran over the soft earth of the never-ending forest of Nenith. Twigs cracked underneath him, some threatening to make him fall. Harry could not tell if the trees moved their branches on their own or if he was simply hallucinating it as he ran deeper into the darkness. He prayed it was the latter. Harry's lungs hurt from exhaustion but he had to continue, could not dare to rest. Not tonight.

 

Harry had heard many tales as a child, speaking of the great sorcerers and the elements they controlled. Gandharva. They could take on a human form. They symbolised the deepest wishes of humankind: strength, beauty and power. They were pure and kind to those who worshipped them. But Harry knew different now. The tales never spoke of why they had suddenly disappeared, why no one alive could remember someone who witnessed them.

 

Leaves rose from the ground as a new gust of wind assaulted the night. Harry stumbled over the earth as he slipped on them. His hands searched the great trees for purchase. The air turned to white fog as his breath came out in heavy pants. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Harry turned around, not trusting the silence that had engulfed the forest. Harry pressed his back against the rough bark as he searched the night for a threat. There was no sign of another living being between the trees. He could not see very far, the silver light of the moon above him was just enough to illuminate his surroundings before it seemed to be sucked away by the darkness.

Harry let out a shaky breath, his heart still raced in a frantic pace. He looked down onto his hand. Across his palm was a marking of ancient runes. The sign of one of  _ them _ . It was warm on Harry's skin and pulsated when he ran his fingers over it.

 

Could he even flee?

  
  


_ The temples of the old gods were sacred. No one was allowed inside them. But for all the wrong reasons. Curiosity had won over Harry in a moment of weakness. When he had walked through the great stone doors, temptation had lingered sweetly in the air. Harry had walked further inside, his feet crunching over the sand that covered the floor. In the center of the temple was a shrine, red stone engraved with old tales in a language long lost. Harry had reached out with his hand and ran his fingers over the runes, traced each line delicately as though in trance. Strange whispers were in the air around him, hushed words Harry could not understand. He did not know where they came from. He wanted to leave then, finally realizing that he should not be there at all. The voices grew louder and slowly morphed into one. Harry’s eyes widened when he began to understand that it came from inside the shrine. _

 

_ A desperate scream left his lips when he could not get his hand off the stone. He pried at his palm with his fingers – but to no avail. A sharp pain suddenly ran through Harry’s hand and when he closed his eyes he saw fire before him. _

 

_ Great flames covered the sky, the heat burning his skin. A storm fought against them. The wind seemed to take in deep breaths before it lashed out at the flames and forced them down onto the village below. _

 

_ Harry  was hurled back by a gust of wind and landed on the cold stone floor of the temple. He held his hand close to his chest, the echoes of a scorching pain still present. When he opened his eyes again he knew why. The runes on his palm mirrored the ones on the shrine.  _

 

_ With shaking legs Harry got up from the ground and started to run with all his might as he heard a voice behind him. _

  
  


The wind picked up again from another direction this time. Harry started to run without thinking twice. He had made a mistake, a foolish mistake and now he had to pay its price.

 

The gusts were clawing on his clothes, trying to bring him down. Harry fought against the bodiless, tried to keep himself upright and run, run, run.

 

But it was all in vain.

 

A noise like breaking stone echoed in the forest as the wind seemed to cut the air in front of him. Harry shielded his face with his arms. He only removed them once the storm had quietened down. Harry took a step back at the sight before him. A man stood in between the trees not far away from him. His robes swayed calmly behind him, not bothered by the wind around them. There was a golden glow surrounding his frame. He was tall and pale. Dark locks fell over his forehead and when he opened his eyes Harry could see their crimson colour even from the distance. He was not human, no. He was the Keeper of Winds.

 

Harry's breath hitched as the other slowly approached him. He tried to move but he was not able to. He was held in place by invisible ties. Harry struggled against them but stopped when a sharp pain ran through his hand where the mark was.

 

The wind god was much closer when Harry looked up again. Red eyes were fixed upon him and slowly – once he had stopped in front of Harry – a soft smile spread across his lips. Harry found himself unable to even speak. He could do nothing but watch as the god reached out for his hand. The mark on his palm seemed to spread out onto the other's skin when they touched. The god closed his eyes and Harry almost did the same. The tingling sensation soon turned into pleasure as warmth spread throughout his body. When it ended, Harry was left panting heavily into the night. He felt the ties loosening but could not find it in himself to try and escape.

 

The wind god observed him now, eyes roaming freely over Harry's form. And Harry did not mind. The fear he had felt ever since he ran away from the temple had disappeared. It was replaced by tentative excitement.

 

The marks on the other's body slowly faded. Harry looked down at his hand but his was still there. A soft laugh was carried on the wind. A hand reached out to cup Harry's cheek, red eyes now locked with his own. Harry swallowed.

 

“Fëanya.”

 

_ My soul. _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
